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It was a bright and sunny day. People crowded the Mall and pressed almost to the capitol steps. Sunlight soft as a mother's kiss streamed through the windows of the Oval Office. By all rights, this ought to have been a perfect day.

"When's the impact?" Tully asked.

"One fifteen tomorrow morning," Lee said. "Probably in Missouri."

"Beware the Ides of March," Tully said.

Lee coughed. "Madame President, there's no way to sugar-coat this..."

"Then don't, General," Tully said.

Lee straightened his uniform. "Chances of survival are...not good."

"How not good?" Tully asked, steepling her fingers and leaning across the desk.

"Negligible," Lee said.

Tully sat back in her chair. "I see."

"We're monitoring the situation, of course," Lee said. "And the trajectory could change or the the comet could break up in the atmosphere or..."

"Kevin," Tully said, "I'm asking this as a friend. We got a snowball's chance in hell?"

"No, Marcy," Lee said.

"Shit," Tully sighed. Her eyes went to Mister Buttfield, who was lying in the sunbeam. The Manx cat yawned and rolled on to his back. He'd been a gift from the British Ambassador, and the kids had welcomed him into the First Menagerie by giving him a truly stupid name. She'd hoped they'd worked that out of their system after Cat-tharine the Great, Yankee Labradoodle, and Aristurtle. But Sam had innocently proposed the name and Liz and Bobby were clamoring for it...Oh God, her kids! Mister Buttfield opened one eye, meowed, and went back to his nap.

"Evacuation?" Tully asked.

"There's nowhere to evacuate to. We're looking at extinction of ninety percent of land animals and plants. Even if people survive the immediate environmental chaos there won't be enough for them to eat." Lee said. "We came to you first. As far as the public knows, Hermes One is nudging the comet off collision course."

"What about the amateur trackers?"

"Thing's moving too damn fast for them to track," Lee said. "If it had been coming in at the usual speed Hermes One would have pushed it off-course."

"How many people know the truth?" Tully asked.

"Not many. The world's looking to you, Marcy. No one wants to be the first to break this news." Lee reached into his dress jacket and produced a flask. He offered it to Tully.

"Got my own," Tully said, opening a desk drawer. She produced a bottle. "I've been saving this for a special occasion. Grab some glasses, Kevin."

She uncorked the bottle. Small distillery, the year she was born. Strange how you never realized how old you were until you saw your birthday printed and staring back at you. She poured two glasses and raised one in a toast. "To the end of the world."

"The end of the world," Lee said, and drained his glass.

Tully followed suit and her eyes went again to Mister Buttfield, content in his sunbeam.

"Will it be painful?" Tully asked, refilling the glasses.

"Almost instantaneous," Lee said. "Nice light show, then kabam."

"Kabam," Tully said, tapping her glass against her teeth. "So, no real time for panic?"

"Not really."

"And not a damn thing we can do about it?" she asked.

"Not a damn thing," Lee answered.

Tully went to the window. It was a gorgeous day—clear blue sky, full sun but not too hot. Slight breeze for flying kites. Perfect picnic weather. She, Aaron, and the kids hadn't been on a picnic in a while.

"Hey Kevin," Tully said, "If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what would you do?"

Lee laughed. "You know, before I always said something like go snorkeling or bungee jumping or eat a Kobe steak. Now that it's happening...Nancy's been asking me to prune this tree in the yard for a while. It's a little job, something that would take all of ten minutes. But I always put it off, you know? Found something else to do instead. I think what I really want to do is prune that tree."

"Why? Won't matter tomorrow."

"But it will matter to her today," Lee said. "What do you want to do?"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"Go on a picnic. Spend some time with the family. Tell my parents I love them."

Lee looked at his glass. "Guess we're pretty unimaginative."

"Something like that," Tully said, rolling her glass in her palms. "But I think if you asked people that question they'd all answer the same thing."

"What?"

"Live for one more day."

There was a knock at the door and Perez let himself in. "I just heard the news," he said.

"From who?" Lee asked.

"I never name my sources," he said. "You know that, Kevin."

"Even now?"

"You shouldn't change habits mid-Apocalypse," Perez said. "So, our odds of survival are fair?"

"They begin with an 'f'," Lee said, handing Perez a glass.

"Christ," Perez said. He shook his head. "I just don't know how to spin this, Marcy."

"Neither do I," she said, filling his glass.

"It's going to touch off a panic," Perez said. "All those poor bastards running around, buying up all the ramen noodles and bottled water they can, cowering in their basements." He drained his glass. "It's a shame. Tomorrow was supposed to be a beautiful day."

Tully looked at Mister Buttfield, blissfully sleeping in his sunbeam. She thought of Aaron, face sallow with fright and insisting that there had to be somewhere they could go...Cheyenne Mountain, the Presidential Bunker, anywhere. He'd want to do something. The fact he couldn't would kill him. She thought of the kids; how terrified they'd be crouched in a shelter with all the pets and counting down the last precious seconds of life underground instead of out in the open air of a beautiful March day...

"Ready to break the news?" Perez asked.

Tully saw Mister Buttfield roll over, oblivious to their impending doom. All he knew was that there was a plush carpet, a sunbeam, and brimming bowl of kibble waiting for him downstairs. He was living the Life of Riley because he didn't know how close he was to death.

"How many people know?" Tully asked.

"Very few," Perez said.

"Then we'll keep it that way," Tully said.

"I don't follow," Perez frowned.

"I'll tell the people of the world that Hermes One succeeded, that the comet will make a near-pass, that the comet will be visible in the sky tomorrow, but that we'll be safe."

"You can't do that!" Perez said.

"Why not?" Tully asked. "For God's sake, Jaime, you think people want to spend their last day on Earth fighting each other in the stores and barricading themselves in their basements? I mean, it would be one thing if we had a chance, if there was somewhere we could evacuate, if the comet weren't so damn fast...but what can we do? Jaime, you got one day left. What do you want to do?"

"Visit my mother," Perez said. "Funny, it's one of those things I kept meaning to do..."

"But never got around to doing," Lee said.

"Yeah," Perez said, staring into his glass.

"I think the best thing we can do," Tully said, "Is let everyone have one more day."

"But they won't know it's their last," Perez said.

"They didn't know if it was their last before," Tully said. "Most people had years to do all the living they wanted, only they never got around to it. Why panic people?"

"But you're proposing...you're lying to the American people!" Perez said.

"I'm a politician," Tully said. "I'm sure the American people are used to it by now."

"But that's about little things like wages, wars, and their children's future!" Perez said. "This is about their lives!"

"I'm going to give them another day of choice," Tully said. "Whether they live or not is up to them. Well, let's get this over with. Gentlemen, I've got a press conference to give."

"And I've got a tree to prune," Lee said. "Madame, it's been an honor."

"Likewise," Tully said, returning Lee's salute.

"But what happens if you're wrong?" Perez asked. "What if people find out?"

Tully frowned. "What happens if—despite all odds—the comet fails to kill us all?"

"Yes!" Perez cried.

"I don't know about you," Tully said, "But if that happens I'm throwing the biggest party this country has ever seen."

END

Copyright 2010 P. E. Zimmerman

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